


As Long as it Matters

by karrenia_rune



Category: Mordant's Need - Stephen R. Donaldson
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Introspection, Yuletide New Year's Resolutions Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5679301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the late hors of the night Castellan Lebbick reflects on his friendship/relationship with Artagel and to his duty,  which is still important to him no matter what happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Long as it Matters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [innie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innie/gifts).



Disclaimer: Mordant's Need series belongs to its original creator, Steven Donaldson and its  
respective owners etc. It is not mine. 

"As Long as it Matters" by Karrenia

He's always been quick study and fast; and strong, if built on a slightly smaller scale than most of the guards the Masters of the Citadel typically employ around these parts.  
I make it a point of pride to assess all of the men-at-arms, for both merit and areas that require work. It's not only part of my job as Castellan, well, one of many, and something I've taken considerable pride in maintaining discipline. 

I've seen a great many things occur around here, not all of them pleasant; but I know discipline and I know the skill and rare talent when I see it, and this son of the Dome had all of those above characteristics, in spades. If someone were to ask me why he and I were drawn together I do not know if I could have explained it. Most folks believe me to be taciturn, prickly and a stickler for the rules; and for the most part they would be correct in that assumption.

I certainly put a great deal of effort into making them believe so. In fact, having caught a glimpse of my reflection in one of the many reflective surfaces that scatter the Masters' work-shops, hell, it was hard to not to. The point being, I sometimes wonder if this spare, hard-bitten whip-cord man is me.

I have never been vain about my appearance, like some men I've seen and heard of. A little-known fact about myself that no one, not even Artagel knows, that I had a woman, a beautiful one at that. Why that should matter at this late remove, I have no idea, but I did. I think her name was Annie. She loved me, for me, and I loved her. I lean back in my chair, and close my eyes, trying to remember what she looked like, how her the laughter lines around her sea-green eyes would crinkle and make her even more beautiful to me.

When I open them again, breaking myself out of the momentary spell of reverie; ones which I only allow myself sparingly, I see that that chambermaid, Ellie, or Elspeth, is still there, with her hands cradling the silver serving tray, and her skirts brushing the floor of my quarters.

I'll tell you one thing you didn't ask, and this one's for free. "It's the miles, not the years."

You would think that a young, arrogant and handsome soldier, the Son of the Dome, brash and a little reckless and just a little bit too free with both his blade and that nonchalant tongue in his head; that he and I would have nothing in common.

I would sooner remove my hand from my wrist than admit this to anyone. Artagel reminds me of myself at that age. Yeah, Yeah, perhaps I am becoming maudlin, too much wine and not enough sleep. It's been a long day, and the fortnight ahead promises to be much the same. 

"Artagel is the kind of person, the kind of soldier one would do well to have as a friend, a loyal one at that."

"Why are you telling me this?," the maid asks, her hands trembling.

I don't know, poppet," I reply." "Because you're here. Because it's something I've been mulling over and you just made a convenient audience. But," I say as I hold up my sword hand menacingly, saying . "I will ask you to promise to tell no one what you heard tonight, least of all Artagel."

"Why?" the maid asks more boldly than before, gambling that the challenging tone of her voice will not bring down severe repercussions for herself or her family, She was not a smart girl, but she knew that a position here could be fraught with dangers, but it was also a chance for advancement and more money than she could have made in months working as a seamstress back home in own village. The fact that her village lay close to the borders of Dome was just a coincidence. She tells herself this even as she wonders at her own boldness in asking this of one of the most feared men in the castle who was not numbered among the Masters. And emboldened by the fact that she has not yet been chastened or sent away, she wonders about Artagel and if he has a lady-love. 

I measure my response carefully before saying: "Well, for one thing, personally, I don't want it to go to his head. And for another thing, he would never let me live it down." 

I looked directly into Ellie's eyes and held the contact. I liked her, but I knew better than to begin liaisions of any sort with a woman. despite the increasing loneliness my position and increasing responsibilities brought to my life. And if were being honest with myself despite all of his numerous good qualities, Artagel also has the uncanny ability to get under my skin and irritate me to no end. He does however bring a certain lively and exuberant energy to my life. He would, I have little doubt, deny it, but it is there between us. 

She nods her head like she understood, and perhaps she did. Artagel, while a good solider and a good friend had also garnered and perhaps more than earned a reputation; ah, what do they call it? a lady-killer, that was it, both at home in Domme and here as well. 

Ellie wondered that would be like, but instead she focused back on the Castellan.

"Do you want anything else, mi Lord?" the maid asked. "Perhaps some more wine." "No, no," I say, "No more wine." That will be all, Ellie, You may go."

Ellie curtsies and leaves my chambers.

"Bully for you, Lebbick," I mutter to myself as the candles burn out and the fire in the hearth wavers casting shadows around the room. "Bully for you. One does tend to find friends in the oddest of places and perhaps that's not such bad thing after all."


End file.
